What A New Dress Can Do
by CallMeLy
Summary: Stanley fights his way, quite literally, through the challenges of growing up in a small-minded town like Villeneuve, with only his sister, Eloise, his two friends, Tom and Dick, and the man everyone knows as LeFou, for comfort.
1. My Dearest Sister

**Disclaimer** \- I don't own Beauty and the Beast (2017) or any characters involved. Copyright to Walt Disney Studios.

Finally starting to upload BatB fics! This may be the longest single chapter I've ever written for a fic, there's a lot going on here. This story will be a three-shot covering my headcanons for Stanley's family, how he grew up and will set up his character/role in my upcoming LeFou Potts fic

Slight warning - there's a lot of cruel words directed at Stanley through this, and there probably will be in the next chapter once I get to writing it as well.

* * *

My Dearest Sister

"Now, Stanley, _mon cher_ , you _must_ be careful with those."

The young boy spun around at the sound of his mother's voice as she entered the backroom of the shop. Stanley had been examining the beginnings of a dress that was laid out on the bench waiting to be sewed, possibly a little too closely, but when he turned to look at her, instinctively bringing his hands behind his back, Vivien showed no signs of suspicion, and simply placed the stack of fabric she had carried in down and got to work on the pattern he had been looking at.

"Yes, Maman…"

He knew he should just go now, leave his mother to her work, but his eyes were drawn to the fabric she had just brought it. All pale pink or white. To be made into a set of new dresses for his older sisters' birthday which was fast approaching. Without thinking, and without taking his eyes off the fabric, Stanley asked a question.

"Will I get one for my birthday?"

"What?" Vivien lifted her head to see what her son was referring to, "Oh. Yes, I suppose if you'd like a special birthday outfit when the time comes, I'll make you something."

"A dress…" he mumbled absentmindedly, still staring, "I want a dress for my birthday…"

Vivien's head snapped up. "A _dress_? Stanley, darling, that's hardly appropriate," she gave him a stern look, "I'll make you a nice, smart waistcoat like your father's, shall I?"

Stanley, wide-eyed with fear at her apparent anger, nodded stiffly. But part of him still couldn't drop the subject.

"Why…" his voice shook, but he swallowed back his nerves and continued, "Why do the girls get dresses and I don't?"

"Because little boys don't wear dresses. Pretty dresses are for _pretty girls_ , Stanley. Boys aren't pretty." There was a sharp finality to her tone that made him go quiet. He nodded again and she shooed him out of the room.

Elise, Eloise and Eliana were busy tidying up the shop now that they had closed for the night. Eloise, sweeping the floor, noticed Stanley's dejected-looking expression as he entered the room.

"Stanley? Are you alright?"

Elise and Eliana paused and looked up from the table where they had been sorting ribbons. While Eloise was concerned for her brother, they were entirely uninterested in his problems and weren't too happy about being interrupted. Stanley saw their glares and looked down.

"I'm fine."

He began organizing equipment without another word, leaving Eloise quite discouraged. Eliana scoffed and rolled her eyes before going back to work and Elise followed suit after a quick glance between Eloise and Stanley.

When Eloise didn't return to sweeping, instead watching Stanley with sympathetic eyes, Eliana spoke up, louder than necessary, as per usual.

"It's anyone's guess why Maman lets him in the shop at all. He doesn't do anything to help, he just stares at the clothes like he thinks it could solve all his problems," she turned her gaze on Stanley himself, "As if that could help the sort of _problem_ you have."

Stanley's face flushed and his mouth gaped. Elise looked from Eliana to Stanley and back again, not sure what to say. Or if she should say anything at all. Eliana offered only a mock-sympathetic smile and went back to her work, Elise obediently copying her, but Eloise continued to glare at her sister. How dare she? She didn't say a word at first, just went on sweeping with her anger evident in the way she scowled down at the floor and gripped the broom tighter, but after a few seconds she threw the broom down and strode up to Stanley. Unlike Eliana, her sympathy was always genuine, especially when it came to her little brother. She gently took his hand and pulled him towards the backroom again, ignoring how Eliana huffed and rolled her eyes and how Elise curiously leaned forward over the bench.

"Maman?" Eloise called, knocking on the door.

"Come in, darling."

Stanley gripped Eloise's hand tightly, half hiding behind her as she opened the door and craned her head around the doorway. He had no idea what she was doing, but he trusted her far more than he trusted Elise or Eliana.

"Maman, Stanley isn't feeling well, would it be alright if I take him up to bed?"

He didn't hear a response but he assumed she had nodded or smiled or gave some other affirmation as Eloise thanked her and closed the door, walking slowly upstairs so as not to end up dragging him behind her. Instead of taking him to his room, she detoured to her own and Stanley felt his heartbeat quicken. Eloise knew exactly what would cheer him up after being spoken to that way.

With their mother and sisters busy, and their father not yet home, they had a fair amount of time to themselves.

"And now," Eloise said with a smile, closing her door behind them and opening the wardrobe, "It's time to play dress-up!"

A grin split across Stanley's face and Eloise's own smile widened. She let him take his pick from her selection of dresses and helped him put it on. She sat on her bed and watched him twirl around. He stood in front of her and curtsied and the two danced around the room.

It couldn't last long, though. This was a rare occurrence, and one that they couldn't risk being found out. All too soon, Eloise was carefully placing the dress back in its place and guiding the yawning Stanley to his bedroom. Once he was laid down and tucked in, she placed a gentle kiss on his cheek and whispered goodnight to him.

That was when Stanley was only nine years old, and his sisters twelve.

Over time, Stanley grew more and more hesitant to play "dress-up" with Eloise. His mother deemed his interest in pretty things as inappropriate and Eliana always had to remind him what a disappointment he was. It was too much and he couldn't keep risking being found out just for a few brief moments of bliss. He and Eloise _talked_ about dresses often, laughing as they each playfully insisted that a particular one would suit the other better. Their whispered conversations would, however, earn sneers from Eliana and confused frowns from Elise, and soon they could only really talk in private. The only thing they could all agree on was their bitterness towards the strange outsider of a girl, the one who hadn't been born in Villeneuve like everyone else in their generation. The one who their mother had fawned over ever since the girl had been big enough to dress up. But that did no good to Stanley; Eliana was still a cow, and Elise was still a sheep.

It wasn't surprising that Stanley drifted apart from Eloise as he got older. And yet he found it difficult to make friends with the other young boys in the village. Sometimes he thought he had found one he shared some kind of bond with but it always seemed like he cared for the other boy more than he cared for Stanley. And apparently, something about that made them quite uncomfortable. Once, a boy called Lafayette – the friend of a rather arrogant older boy, who always called him "LeFou" – caught his attention. But whenever Stanley thought he was beginning to make a connection with him, his friend Gaston would come swaggering over and suddenly Lafayette only had eyes for him. Stanley would huff and roll his eyes (a habit he would never admit he had picked up from Eliana) but hadn't the confidence to speak up.

He was angry. At Gaston, at Eliana, at his mother, but more than anything, at himself. For being weak. For being _wrong_. Sometimes, Eloise would place a hand on his shoulder and ask if he was alright. He learned to hide it. He didn't want her to worry about him so much. He could find his own outlet for these feelings.

The first time Stanley held a sword in his hands, he felt he had found the confidence he had been lacking, as well as a substitute for the dresses. The shine of the light as it hit the blade, the elegant way it cut the air as he swung it and the strength it seemed to give him. It was beautiful, just like the dresses had been.

And all the little things drove him to work, to perfect his skills. His sister's dismissiveness, his mother's desire to stifle him, the ever-present threat that his father could learn his secret, the way Gaston captured the focus of not only Lafayette, but now Eloise, Elise and Eliana…

 _Wait._

His sisters? Fans of _Gaston_? Stanley felt jealousy rising deep inside him. And, strangely, something like admiration, but not quite. Idolization. _That_ was how he supposed to be. The kind of boy his parents would be proud of, the kind Eliana and Elise would respect, the kind Lafayette would consider-

He cut off that thought before it could go any further.

By the time he was fourteen, Stanley had become hard as stone. It had been years since Eloise had last comforted him with a dress, and months since they had last had a real, sincere conversation between just the two of them. He was losing what had always grounded him. He still appreciated the fine fashions that filled his mother's shop and the beauty of the sword he had taken to wearing on his waist sometimes, but he was much more subtle about it these days, rather choosing to pick fights in an effort to look tough. So far, Stanley had managed to earn the favour of some of the boys at his school but the one he had no desire to befriend was always Gaston, for multiple reasons.

And one day, Gaston gave him yet another reason to dislike him.

As the boys ran out of the schoolhouse that afternoon, Stanley noticed the triplets at work together doing the laundry by the well. The three of them were sneering at the funny girl – Belle – who was stood opposite them, letting herself be distracted from washing by a book she had open on the wall beside her. Stanley couldn't help the way his lip curled in disdain at Belle's odd habits, just the same as his sisters' did. But then Elise, Eloise, Eliana, and every other young girl at the well besides Belle, suddenly looked up, past Stanley, and he turned around out of curiosity. Gaston had just come out of the schoolhouse, an arrogant smirk on his face as the headmaster berated him yet again. He never seemed to care if he got in trouble. Ignoring the headmaster's attempts, he sauntered away, over to Lafayette, who was waiting for him nearby.

Lafayette had given up going to school some time ago in favour of helping his family – his grandmother was old and frail, and his parents were too overworked to properly care for her. They needed all the help they could get and Stanley admired the boy for doing such a thing. But now, he was there waiting for his friend.

Stanley was about to move on when he noticed Gaston leaving Lafayette's side and approaching the well. Lafayette seemed to just be standing by to watch, gazing at Gaston the same way Stanley had often found himself gazing at Lafayette. Gaston himself was walking up behind the triplets and Stanley thought for a moment that he might just try to flirt with them. He wasn't prepared for what was actually about to happen.

The girls, sensing the presence behind them, all turned to look and couldn't help the grins that stretched across their faces when they saw who it was.

A rather passive "Excuse me," was all he said to them, though, as he pushed Eliana and Eloise apart and leaned against the well in between them. He paid them very little attention, apparently more focused on Belle, who had all but given up on her laundry to read her book. Gaston seemed unusually intrigued by the funny girl on the other side of the well. Stanley's brow creased at the sight of his sisters being ignored. He may not have gotten along very well with Eliana and Elise, but he was still their brother, and he felt some level of protectiveness over them.

Eloise, looking a little miffed, tried to go on washing the skirt in her hands, but Eliana evidently had other ideas. She edged closer to Gaston, hoping to draw his attention away from Belle, only for Gaston to give her an annoyed look and shove her away, harsher than before. He took a step back, right into Eloise, causing her to drop the skirt. It drifted to the centre of the well and Eloise struggled to reach it. Belle finally put her book down when she heard the splash and was surprised by the scene before her. She also tried to reach the skirt. It took a moment or two before it floated close enough for her to grab it, but none of the triplets noticed her help. They were too distracted.

When Gaston made no attempt to apologise to the girls or help at all, Stanley stormed towards him with a fire in his eyes. He was too angry to notice the worried expression on Lafayette's face.

"What do you think you're doing?" he demanded once he was only a couple of feet away. The girls circled around the well looked up at him but he barely even saw them.

Gaston was clearly shocked that Stanley was standing up to him and went to speak but Eliana did before he could.

"What do _you_ think _you're_ doing, Stanley?" she snapped, "he didn't mean any harm, it was just an accident."

Stanley blinked in surprise and Gaston looked smug. Belle was wringing out the soaked skirt, going completely unnoticed by the rest of them.

"You're going to defend him?" Stanley stared at Eliana, "In what world could you possibly say that was an accident?"

Eliana glared at him, gritting her teeth, "Stanley, be _quiet_."

"I _won't_! And what are you looking so proud of yourself for?" he turned to Gaston, "You're just taking advantage of them! How dare you?"

"What are _you_ getting so worked up for?" Gaston countered, "They obviously forgive me, what's the trouble?"

"Forgive you? You didn't even apologise. You _still_ aren't apologizing. Besides, Eliana does not speak for all of them. Despite what you may think about triplets, they don't all share one mind."

He looked past Gaston to Eloise, who was now picking up the slightly drier skirt that Belle had discreetly placed next to her, still unnoticed. In fact, it seemed Belle had disappeared without any of them knowing. Eloise didn't look at him, only hissed a response out of the corner of her mouth.

"Stanley, please, you're causing a scene…"

Stanley's face fell and he couldn't stop the rage bubbling up inside him.

" _I'm_ causing a scene? _He's_ the one who started this!"

With that, Stanley pushed Gaston away from his sisters. The push only sent him a couple of steps back and earned Stanley a hard shove in return.

"Stanley…!"

Eloise called out and went to pull him back but Eliana grabbed her arm and yanked her away. Stanley paid them no mind, too blinded by his anger. He swung a fist and it connected with Gaston's jaw, loud and clear. Gaston staggered slightly then fixed Stanley with a cruel glare. He lunged at him. The girls around the well, including the triplets, shrieked while the other boys still milling about whooped and cheered, forming a crowd around them. Eloise once again went to pull Stanley to safety but Eliana tightened her grip on her sister's arm.

"Let go, he's going to get himself hurt if we let him fight!"

"It'll be his own fault if he does," Eliana said firmly, "He needs to learn that his actions have consequences. You said it yourself, he's causing a scene, and we can't afford to get wrapped up in his problems. We're going home."

She was reluctant to go but she helped Elise quickly gather up the clean clothes and they followed Eliana. Still, she couldn't help but turn back briefly to see how her brother was faring, and she wished she hadn't. Gaston was older, bigger and more experienced than him and no amount of fighting spirit could compete with that. Stanley was on the ground, Gaston practically on top of him, throwing punches, kicking and even gnashing his teeth whenever Gaston's arm came too close to his mouth. But Gaston even got the upper hand in that area too when he pulled Stanley's leg back, making him wince, and bit him hard.

"I _said_ we're leaving!" Eliana almost shouted and Eloise hurried after her.

They had only just rounded the corner when the headmaster arrived by the well and tore the feuding boys apart. His priority, of course, was to discipline Gaston, continuing his rant from earlier so Stanley took the opportunity to catch his breath, and possibly get a decent distance away that he might be able to avoid a scolding himself.

"Stanley?"

He jumped at the voice behind him, one which he was all too familiar with, one that made his heartbeat race even faster, and that was saying something considering the situation.

"LeFou?"

Stanley always opted to use his nickname, though he felt guilty with how degrading it was, when he spoke to him face-to-face. _Everyone_ called him that now, and he didn't want to risk standing out.

"I'm sorry about Gaston, he doesn't mean to be like that. He's just keeping up his image, you see. He's going to join the war and he thinks acting this way is going to prepare him somehow."

Stanley was dumbstruck by the fact that Lafayette was actually talking to him, especially after he had just fought his best friend. Not only that, but he seemed _concerned_.

He must have noticed the way Stanley's face was heating up.

"Are you alright?"

"I-I…" he swallowed and willed himself to not stutter, "I'm fine…"

He wasn't fine, he was bruised and battered, not to mention the painful teeth marks on his leg. But he wouldn't let Lafayette see how weak he was right now.

"Good," Lafayette smiled and Stanley's heart almost stopped.

He was about to continue when Gaston called out "LeFou!" from somewhere behind them. He turned in the direction his voice had come from.

"I'm coming, Gaston!" he turned back to Stanley, "I have to go. Sorry again…" With a small wave, he started towards his friend.

Stanley finally found his voice.

"He's going away to war?" he tried not to sound too hopeful, but this could be his chance to spend some time Lafayette without Gaston around.

"He is," Lafayette grinned proudly, "And so am I. We'll be gone for a while, but I think we could come back to Villeneuve as heroes."

Stanley's heart dropped. He was only just too young to enlist himself. He wouldn't see Lafayette for quite some time. He dreaded to think it but, perhaps, he might not see Lafayette again at all after he left. His entire demeanour softened.

"… You're very brave to go," he said, almost whispered, "I wish I could join you…"

"They'd be lucky to have you, if that brawl was any implication. I'm glad you're okay."

Stanley watched him go, releasing a long sigh. He turned, ready to head home, only to be met with the headmaster. Right. Of course. Gaston had left, after all. He sighed again, this time in exasperation.

Roughly fifteen minutes later, Stanley was stood on his own doorstep, the headmaster having a firm grip on his ear. Gaston may have had his own ear talked off but he wasn't so well known as Stanley for getting into these fights on a semi-regular basis. It was common knowledge around the town that the only person Stanley would answer to in these times was his father.

The headmaster rapped on the door and within a few seconds, Eliana appeared. She gave Stanley a disgusted look, then politely thanked the headmaster.

" _Papa_!" she called back into the house before fixing Stanley with another glare, "You better have a good excuse this time. He's running late as it is, he hasn't the patience for you."

"Standing up for you isn't a good enough excuse? Fine, don't expect any more favours from me, in that case."

"You call the way you acted a _favour_?"

She was going to continue but their father had arrived.

"Eliana, get back to hanging the laundry, now, my dear."

He was always softer on his daughters.

"Yes, Papa."

Once Eliana had gone, Stanley lifted his head to meet his father's gaze, his expression cold and distant. He didn't bother trying to hide the obvious injuries, or the smudged dirt and blood on his clothes. It wasn't like this was anything new. Compared to the sharp, finely-tailored outfit his father wore, Stanley looked like a ragdoll tossed aside. Which, he thought, he might as well be.

"Again? This behaviour cannot go on, Stanley."

"I thought you said I should defend myself when someone offends me?" his expression didn't change, but there was a sharp edge to his tone.

"You can defend yourself with _words_ instead of _fists_."

His father worked in very much the same way, appearing calm but the raging fire underneath was clear in his voice.

"And what if the other man decides to use _his_ fists?"

"You need to learn to take the moral high ground, Stanley, instead of stooping so low as to resort to violence. Look at you, you're only making more work for your poor sisters. Go and clean yourself up. I don't have the time to waste on you right now."

Stanley went inside without responding. There wasn't a point – there was never a point.

Once he had washed his face, arms and legs of the blood and grime, he headed for his bedroom for a change of clothes but was stopped just outside the door.

"Stanley…"

He turned around to see Eloise standing outside her own bedroom, her back against the doorframe and her fingers fidgeting nervously. She glanced back inside the room, then looked past Stanley. Checking no-one was around, he assumed. He took a few cautious steps towards her.

"I have something for you."

Without waiting for a reply, she entered the room. Stanley followed but stopped short when he saw what Eloise has laid out on her bed.

A dress. One of her own. He looked at her expectantly.

"Just for a short time," she said as she closed the door, "I thought you deserved it. I know it's been a while, but you've been through a lot today and I wanted to thank you. I know this is your favourite."

"Eloise…" Stanley was shocked, "You know what Maman said…"

Eloise interrupted, picking up the dress with a smile.

"Which is precisely why it should be done in private. Under the wise supervision of your dearest sister!" she held it up against him, her face turning hopeful, "For old time's sake."

"Eloise, if any of the others… If Papa should see…!"

At this Eloise put the dress down and gently took hold of his arms, making him look her in the eyes.

"Papa is out," her voice was steady and reassuring, "Maman is working and Elise and Eliana are helping her. This is my dress to do with as I like. And if any of them come, you know I'll defend you. Now," Eloise picked the dress back up and once again held it up against Stanley, "It may be a bit tight in some places, a bit loose in others… But it's only for a few moments."

"I wouldn't want your dress ruined because of me. It could tear, and I'm not sure I cleaned up all of the blood… They would figure it out if I left a stain on it."

At this point, he was just looking for excuses. But there was something in him that desperately wanted this.

"Nonsense. Besides, I hardly wear this anymore. It wouldn't be a bother should it be damaged or stained. I'd just get rid of it."

Stanley heaved a sigh and his face twisted this way and that as he deliberated over whether or not to do it.

"… Take this as an apology," Eloise said after a short silence, "I should have stood up for you."

"You tried."

"I could have tried harder."

They smiled sadly at one another and Eloise held out the dress once more.

"Come on. I'm sure you're dying to get out of those filthy things."

She nodded at the soiled clothes he was wearing. She was right. And a dress, he mused, was far better than anything else he could put on instead in this moment. As Eloise helped him change, she continued talking in a hushed tone.

"I know I shouldn't have let Gaston get away with it. I can't help being so enamoured with him. He may be a brute but… you see, Stanley, that sort of thing starts to become quite attractive, in a way, to a girl when she's at this age. Until it's directed at someone she cares about…"

She couldn't seem to meet his eyes. She must have felt so guilty.

"Don't worry about that. You're making up for it now."

Eloise nodded and carried on.

"Besides, there is someone else I've taken a liking to…" she trailed off, as if unsure of what she was going to say next. Stanley, curious, waited impatiently for her to go on. She didn't say anything.

"Who?"

"No-one…" she shook her head, "Never you mind."

" _Who_?"

"Ge-…" Eloise took a breath and looked him in the eye, "Geneviève Patin."

Stanley froze.

He recognized the name, the girls has often talked about their friend Geneviève. And Eloise…? But she also liked Gaston... Still, at least in some way, she was like him. He was at a loss for words.

Eloise seemed to take his silence as a bad sign.

"A person can't help who they fall for, Stanley," she said softly, "People act like you can, but you _can't_."

Not knowing what else to do, Stanley hugged her. Eloise was stunned but soon she wrapped her arms around him and relaxed.

"I was beginning to think I was the only one."

His voice was muffled against her sleeve but she heard him. She pulled away.

"The only one?" she looked thoughtful for a second, then a smile grew on her lips.

Stanley nodded, unable to hide his own smile anymore. "Except… only boys. Not both. I didn't know that was possible."

"Well, my dear little brother, I can assure you it is," Eloise chuckled, "Wait a moment, let me finish this…"

She began to lace up the ribbons on Stanley's bodice. He had almost forgotten about that.

"To be quite honest with you, I think what I feel for Geneviève is a lot… _deeper_ than what I feel for Gaston. She's beautiful, but more than that, I feel as though I could talk to her forever. She's gentle, she's kind, and she's especially creative. You should see how well she can draw. Did you see that sketch of a dress design Maman was working from last week? Geneviève drew that!"

Stanley felt so calmed hearing his sister talk about another girl like this, but then she moved on to a subject he would have preferred not to talk about.

"Gaston certainly is handsome, though. And…" she drifted off, almost in a trance thinking about him, "Brave and strong… It's more of a passing fancy, you know, but still. Surely, you have your eye on him as well. I suppose that's why you were upset that he approached us-"

 _Wait, what?_ Stanley was brought back to Earth in an instant.

"What? Ugh, definitely not!" he couldn't help his reaction, "Gaston's not exactly the sort I'm interested in."

"Oh?" Eloise blinked and raised her eyebrows, "I have to say, I'm surprised. What sort of young man _would_ you be interested in, then?"

"… Lafayette…" Stanley mumbled just barely loud enough to hear.

"Who?"

"Lafayette," he said again, louder, but Eloise still looked lost, "LeFou. That's his real name. Did you not know?"

"I didn't," she shook her head, more concerned with straightening out Stanley's skirt and sleeves now, "So, tell me, what is it about _Lafayette_ that you find so appealing?"

"He's…" he started, feeling a little shy, "Cheerful, considerate, funny…" a smile appeared on his face and Eloise grinned back as he continued listing off traits, "Have you heard him _sing_?"

They locked eyes, the two of them overjoyed to finally get all of this out in the open. Eloise clasped her hands together under her chin.

"Oh, Stanley, I wish you could see yourself right now. You're absolutely smitten, aren't you?"

He blushed and looked down for a moment, but then he remembered something and his smile faded away. He went quiet.

"Stanley…?" Eloise's hands dropped and she carefully placed them on his face, lifting his head back up to meet her eyes. She searched his face for a sign of what was wrong.

"He's going to war."

"Oh…!" her hands went to her mouth as she gasped, then she quickly hugged him close, whispering into his ear soothingly, " _Mon cher_ …"

She knew that Stanley had more to tell her, but he was hesitating. He sniffed and buried his face in the crook of her neck. He stayed there as he continued.

"And so is Gaston."

Eloise bit her lip and held him tighter.

"They'll be fine," she said, stroking his hair and slowly rocking him back and forth, "They'll be fine, and we'll see them again when it's over. Won't we?"

"I-I don't kno-"

He was jerked out of her embrace only to be met with her firm gaze.

" _Won't we_?"

She wasn't going to let her little brother give up hope so soon. He gulped and nodded, but that wasn't enough for her.

"Say it. How can you believe it and accept it if you don't say it out loud?"

"We'll see them again."

"Good," her smile returned, "I think we should get back to cheering you up, don't you?"

Stanley was just barely the right size for Eloise's dress, with her being almost a grown woman and him still being a young boy. The skirt lifted slightly too much off the floor with his height but it would do for a few minutes of fun. Eloise took a step back and took his hands in hers.

"Just like old times, right?"

She spun him around and he laughed as the skirt billowed around him, and she laughed at his happiness. So pure and sincere. Neither of them noticed the door creak open. Eloise had been in such a rush to apologise and convince him to wear the dress that she had forgotten to lock it.

"Eloise, is your brother in here with y-"

They both jumped in fright at the sound of their mother's voice. They turned towards the door to see Vivien standing there in shock. Eloise immediately grabbed Stanley by the hand and pulled him behind her but it was too late – she had seen the dress.

"Stanley, what in God's name are you- Eloise, is this your doing?" she started towards them.

"Maman, please, it was only a bit of fun, just for a moment…"

"'Only a bit of fun', is it? I knew all this dress nonsense had to be your influence, your sisters know their place," she took hold of Eloise's arm and wretched Stanley out of her grasp, "And you! I heard you had been picking fights again today, and now this? It's one extreme to another with you, isn't it? You should consider yourselves lucky your father isn't home yet. But he will be any minute, so you better change out of that."

Eloise tried again. She'd failed her brother once today and she wasn't prepared to do it again.

"It's just a game, Maman, and it's an old dress. He's doing no harm! Please…!"

Stanley was too scared to do anything but look at her with pleading eyes. She had promised to defend him, she was trying her best, but it didn't look like her efforts would get them anywhere.

"He's been going on and on about dresses for years. I know this is not a simple game to the two of you."

Tears were pricking both of their eyes now. But the next words to come out of her mother's mouth drew out a sob from Eloise.

"Have you no concern for your brother's safety?"

 _Of course I do._

And for her brother's happiness. More than anything in the world, his safety and his happiness. The siblings locked eyes, both casting silent apologies to the other. Then the final blow came.

"The two of you will _not_ be left alone together in the future. Come, now, Stanley, go and change. Your father mustn't see you like this."

Stanley was hurried out of the girls' bedroom and into his own, leaving Eloise to mull over her mistakes.

The crumpled dress was thrown on the floor by her door soon after.


	2. These Men

**Disclaimer** \- I don't own Beauty and the Beast (2017) or any characters involved. Copyright to Walt Disney Studios.

I'm so sorry this has taken forever to upload! I moved house recently, we didn't have wifi for the first month then I was always either too busy to write or couldn't find the motivation... But here we go, the second chapter of my Stanley fic! I might upload the third and final chapter a little later on tonight since it's been so long and I just want to get it posted, but I'm also considering waiting until tomorrow so you guys can take in this chapter. Chapter 3 was actually written months ago, before I even wrote the first chapter in fact. It was even originally meant to be a one-shot. I admit, I feel like I might have rushed this one a little bit. The pacing feels a bit off to me, but I'll let you be the judge of that~

Hopefully, this fic will act as a sort of precursor to my LeFou Potts fic, which I want to write in a TV screenplay format. I really like the idea of a spin-off TV series about LeFou being adopted into the Potts family and of course, there'll be StanFou later on in it~ Anyway, enjoy chapter two of What A New Dress Can Do!

* * *

"These Men"

The soldiers had returned that morning and to Stanley's relief, Lafayette was still among them. To his sisters' relief, and his dismay, so was Gaston. Somehow, the man now held the title of Captain and all of Villeneuve seemed to flock to him. That night, the tavern was alive with epic tales of how Gaston had saved his men time and time again. If it weren't for the fact that Lafayette was the one telling them, however, Stanley would not be paying attention. His mind began to wander as he let Lafayette's soothing voice and entertaining theatrics pull him in and soon he had drifted into a daydream where it was him who had fought alongside Lafayette, who had protected him, who had been there beside him day and night…

Lafayette's voice, suddenly right in front of him, was also what brought him back to reality.

"It's good to see you again."

"And you, as well," Stanley managed to smile once he regained the ability to speak, "It sounds like you've had quite the adventure."

"It seems that way, but war's a horrific sight, Stanley," his face turned grim, "I saw things out there I never want to see again."

"Well, you're back home again, now. Safe and sound."

 _Safe and sound_ , he repeated in his mind. He quickly glanced over at Eloise, gazing at the oblivious Gaston with Elise and Eliana. He was sure she was thinking the same thing.

"We can only hope it stays that way," Lafayette said with a nod, his smile coming back.

Another round of drinks came and the stories continued. Stanley sat opposite his sisters, subtly placing himself at Lafayette's right hand. Once or twice, he made eye contact with Eloise and the two would share a secret nod and smile.

It was becoming harder and harder for them to talk. Occasionally, they might get a chance to whisper a passing thought to one another, or wink as Lafayette or Geneviève walked by, but their mother had stuck to her word. Wherever they went, it seemed they were always hounded by their family. Neither of them wanted to risk being torn even further apart. Stanley gave up talking about dresses and threw himself into sword fighting. Eloise learned to toe the line and began to copy Elise in how she trailed after Eliana, no thought in her head that wasn't put there by the elder sister.

But lately, the four of them had been frequenting the tavern more. Gaston and Lafayette were home, and Stanley had the excuse of faithfully guarding the girls as they fawned over the Captain, so that he could fawn over his friend.

Since his return, Gaston had started associating himself with two other men Stanley had seen about the village – Thomas and Richard. Tom and Dick, as most called them. They were a few years older than Gaston, around ten years his senior, if Stanley had to take a guess. They seemed to be rather impressed by him, though that wasn't surprising. Everyone was impressed by him. Everyone but Stanley. And Belle, but what did she matter?

Still, on the night Gaston decided to acknowledge their past conflict, Stanley tried not to let it show.

"I should apologise for that," Gaston's entire being oozed fake guilt and it felt like Stanley was the only one who could see it, "War has taught me a thing or two, Stanley. I expect you've done some growing up yourself since I've been gone, as well?"

"I'd like to think so," Stanley replied through gritted teeth. He kept a straight face, he wasn't about to fall back into his old provocative ways. Not just yet. He turned away, letting Gaston move on to whichever fan was craving his attention, and carefully tilted his head towards Eloise.

"What's so awe-inspiring about Gaston, anyway?" he hissed.

Eloise whispered back, "Gaston is a _war hero_ , Stanley."

"LeFou fought in the war!"

 _Be subtle. Don't let on your feelings._

"Oh, please, I'm sure Gaston had to save his hide on several occasions. The man couldn't catch a rabbit let alone brandish a sword."

She was smiling teasingly as she said it. Stanley knew she wasn't entirely serious, and he knew exactly what she was doing.

"What do you know? You're too busy gawking at Gaston to notice anything about LeFou."

Eloise bit her lip, hiding a giggle, and leaned closer. Her whisper dropped even lower.

"And you're too busy gawking at LeFou to notice anything about Gaston!"

Stanley, suddenly nervous someone may have heard, shot her a wide-eyed look but she only shrugged and let herself laugh softly. It only took a couple of seconds for him to crack and he grinned back at her.

"What's so funny?" Elise asked from beside Eloise. Her head was tilted curiously. She hadn't heard anything.

"Nothing," Eloise smiled, patting her younger sister's hand, "I think Stanley's just a bit jealous of Gaston."

She gave him a look, one that seemed light-hearted on the surface, but Stanley knew she wasn't simply making an excuse – he couldn't deny his jealousy. Although, he would have to cover up the real reason he was jealous.

Elise raised her eyebrows and smiled, a little condescendingly, at Stanley.

"There's no use in being jealous. Come, now, Stanley, it seems like he may be warming up to you. Why not try to be friends with him? You might learn something from him."

Stanley rolled his eyes. Elise wasn't very talkative most of the time, but when she did speak, it was always the last thing he wanted to hear. She tried to be helpful, he could see that, but she was just so… oblivious. And such a doormat…

"Try getting in with Gaston," she continued, but was pushed aside by Eliana barging into the conversation.

"More importantly, try getting _us_ in with Gaston."

The idea was suddenly even less appealing.

"It does look like he's taken a liking towards you already, it shouldn't be so hard," Eloise said, more kindly, "You just need to reign in that temper of yours a bit."

"If you _can_ ," Eliana quipped. Eloise jabbed her sharply with an elbow but she persisted, "Put all that fighting spirit to good use, why don't you?"

Stanley only shook his head and turned away. Eliana and Elise gave in at that point and went about their business. Eloise, however, quietly cleared her throat. When Stanley looked back up at her, her eyes briefly flickered across the space to Gaston, and back to him. He frowned, confused. She glanced over again and mouthed something. It clicked in his mind – she wasn't referring to Gaston, she was referring to the man _beside_ Gaston.

" _LeFou_."

Spending more time with Gaston, no matter how frustrating, would mean spending more time with him. Still, how exactly he could go about befriending the Captain would still take some thought.

An all-too-familiar sound on the other side of the tavern caught his attention and he turned to see Tom and Dick, their swords unsheathed, preparing to spar. He had often seen them sparring here, even before the war, and Gaston would join them occasionally. A few others had also turned to watch and Stanley got up to move closer. He was entranced by the clash of steel and the excitement on the two men's faces. This, he mused, could be a way in. Once their match had come to a close, it only took one simple question.

"Mind if I join you?"

Tom and Dick turned to see Stanley stood with his hand on the hilt of his sword and his eyes burning, ready for a good fight. The two older men shared a brief glance and grinned.

Over the coming days, Tom, Dick and Stanley would find themselves sparring in the tavern every night as Elise, Eloise and Eliana listened to the same tales of the war over and over again. Each evening began with Stanley accompanying his sisters, taking advantage of the closeness to Lafayette for a few precious moments, before being invited by either Tom or Dick to once again face them in a friendly swordfight. Eventually, he was drinking with them. They would take a table close to Gaston, Lafayette and the girls and eavesdrop on the stories they were telling. Stanley quickly learned from his new acquaintances that some details were being greatly exaggerated and that the reality of Gaston's heroism was often far less heroic, and in some instances, far more entertaining. So much so that when his sisters shared the stories with their mother back home, he had to bite his tongue to keep from laughing.

It hadn't been in Stanley's plan to genuinely get along with Tom and Dick, but he couldn't help enjoying their company. They were friendly and welcoming, which came as a surprise to him considering they were close to Gaston. Despite the jokes they made about his false bravado, they did respect him. On the battlefield, apparently, Gaston had truly made his mark as their Captain and if things turned ugly, they would flock to him without question. Even so, they were good men to Stanley. Good friends. It seemed he'd finally found a place where he felt at home.

With how close they were getting, it shouldn't have surprised him that they would notice.

"Don't think I don't know who you're lookin' at." Tom glanced up from his drink.

Stanley's head snapped back around in an instant. Behind him, Lafayette was spinning another yarn at Gaston's side. He had hoped his friends wouldn't notice but at least he had a decent excuse ready.

"Who I'm looking at? I shouldn't think it was a secret that I check up on my sisters now and then."

Tom put his beer down with a sigh and crossed his arms on the table, fixing Stanley with a knowing look.

"I know you well enough by now, lad. Dick may not be so sharp, but I can see under the surface."

"What was that?" Dick piped up from the other side of the table, "You think I'm blind or somethin'? Don't go flattering yourself, mate, I know what's going on with him."

Stanley felt his cheeks flush.

"What's 'going on' with me? _Mes amis_ , if you think I'm doing something more than simply being a good brother, I'd love to hear it."

"Would you, now?" Tom leaned forward, lowering his voice, and Stanley tried to hide how nervous he felt, "There's no need to fear, Stanley, we aren't going to go and turn you in or something. We're your friends. You're safe with us. But we have noticed your… _interest_ in LeFou."

Stanley choked on his drink and stared at Tom, who stared back. His face was kind and friendly, as was Dick's. He hadn't expected this.

"Come to think of it," Dick said, scratching his chin, "My own observations of LeFou tell me he don't much care for the women, either."

Stanley held his breath. He knew he was going to be disappointed, but when Dick continued, a long sigh of lost hope escaped him.

"I don't think it comes as much of a surprise exactly what man's got his attention, though, does it?"

He gave Stanley an apologetic look. In fairness, Stanley himself _had_ quickly picked up on Lafayette's true feelings for Gaston, but it was clear those affections weren't going to suddenly shift over to him instead, no matter how much he wished for it.

He kept his eyes down, feeling a little bit uncomfortable under Tom and Dick's gaze now that this was out in the open. Of course, he hadn't actually confirmed their suspicions yet but he had been silent for too long to try and deny it at this point.

"… Why does it have to be _Gaston_ …?" he muttered, only half to himself.

"Because he commands attention, I suppose, don't he?" Tom suggested.

"And why don't I command attention, eh?"

"Now, there's a question," Dick said with a nod.

"You'd do good to mind what sort of attention you're commandin', though. Your safety's the most important thing," Tom looked into his eyes, genuine concern etched across his face, "Keep quiet, Stan. You know what they do to men of your kind. Keep quiet, and keep safe."

Stanley nodded, looking away. He knew that already. Quiet was safe. That was what he and Eloise had come to know.

Although having Tom and Dick on his side granted him the same small moments of freedom Stanley had once had with his sister, it also sparked a few questions in his mind. If they had figured out his feelings for Lafayette, who was to say nobody else in Villeneuve had? Should he be more cautious, more discreet? Why did they offer their support in the first place? Tom had said Stanley was safe with them both, but just how safe was he? How far would they be willing to go to defend him? He tried to shake the thoughts from his head but they remained.

He needn't have questioned their loyalty. He learned that on the day his father walked into the tavern, all eyes on him the moment he entered.

"This is no way for a young man to behave," he said in regards to his son's near nightly drinking and sparring, then turned his glowering gaze onto his daughters, "and no place for young ladies to be seen."

Things had been going well. It seemed that Gaston would welcome him into his inner circle of friends, and he had even managed to speak with Lafayette on occasion. Although he still stumbled over his words now and then when he did. It had become the norm to spend his evenings here in the tavern with his sisters, his friends, Gaston and Lafayette. Though he wouldn't admit it, some part of him was even warming up to Gaston. But now, here was the harsh reality of what was always awaiting him at home intruding on the one place he could feel somewhat safe.

"The three of you," he was saying to the triplets, "should not be spending your nights among the likes of these… _reprobates_. Drinking and fighting and shouting, it's obscene. And _you_ …"

He raised one arm, pointing at Stanley, who stood tall against him only a few steps away. Stanley's jaw was set and his eyes were fixed on his father's. The two stared one another down, neither one prepared to back down anytime soon.

"What of me, Father?"

No affection, no fear, no shame. The way he always addressed him.

"You've become one of them. All of your time is wasted on frivolities. That violent streak of yours will only worsen if you continue this way. And what's more is you insist on dragging your sisters down to your level with you."

"They come here of their own accord. They can do as they please. I watch over them. I do _not_ control them. Not like you think you can."

He felt rage bubbling under the surface. The same rage that had driven him to senseless fights in the past. The same rage that had spurred him on against Gaston all that time ago.

"Don't speak out of place, Stanley. Remember who it is you're talking to!"

"I know my place. I am a grown man and I am free to make my own choices."

He took a single step forward, ready for a fight. Still, he knew he couldn't go that far. This man was still his father and he had half the village watching. Tom and Dick now flanked him on either side, poised to pull him back if they needed to.

"And fine choices you're making for yourself, wasting your days on swaggering about town with these men and your nights on beer and fighting. What good have you contributed to this village? What good have your so-called friends contributed since the war? It's time the lot of you move on and return to real life."

Stanley all but snapped.

"What right have you to speak of my friends like that?"

In an instant, he was storming towards his father. Blinded by his anger, he raised a fist and was about to take a swing when Tom's hand came down on his shoulder and wrenched him back to where he began. Dick stepped in front of him, gritting his teeth as he watched his friend's father with cold eyes, and Tom hissed in his ear.

"Don't stoop to that level, Stan. He's trying to catch you out, don't fall for it."

Not too far away, Eliana and Elise had stood from where they sat beside Gaston and were cautiously edging towards their father. Eloise, however, stayed where she was. She watched Stanley, anxious and unsure. None of them saw the look of fear on Lafayette's face, and the look of intrigue on Gaston's.

"You see this? You see what this _place_ and these _men_ have done to you? The only answer you people know is violence and vulgarity. I will not stand for such-"

He was cut off by a fist connecting with his jaw. Not Stanley's, but Dick's. The tavern was silent as he staggered backwards.

Dick rubbed his knuckles, his glaring expression never changing. Tom looked on in shock, Stanley stuck somewhere between awed and afraid. Eliana and Elise gripped each other, eyes wide and mouths agape. Eloise's hands flew to her face. Gaston only quirked an eyebrow.

Lafayette looked from Stanley to his father and back again.

Stanley watched as his father regained his balance and straightened up, his hand pressed to his face and his expression grim. No-one, not a soul in the entire room, dared to speak but him.

"The four of you will leave this tavern at once," he almost growled, "and you will not associate yourselves with these men any longer."

Eliana and Elise looked at each other, frightened. For once, Eliana was unsure of what to do. She gulped and turned her head to Eloise who glared at their father with such strong resilience it almost seemed like she could throw the next punch. Elise tugged on Eliana's sleeve, silently begging for her guidance, but Eliana had none to give. Stanley shared the same glare as Eloise from behind his two friends.

Gaston leaned back in his chair. Lafayette took a brave step forward. Still, no-one noticed.

Stanley took a breath.

"These men are more family to me than you ever were."

His words hung in the air for a moment.

"Have it your way," his father said and looked to his daughters, "Girls, come along."

He turned towards the door and Elise trotted after him only to stop when she realised Eliana was not at her side. Eliana, instead, was gritting her teeth and trying to stay composed as she stared down Eloise, who refused to budge.

"Eloise, you _will_ come with us."

"I will stay."

Calm. Collected. Unfazed.

Eliana gave in, stomping over to her younger sister and grabbing her by the wrist.

"You will _not_."

Eloise struggled but Eliana was stronger. She cast an apologetic look back at Stanley as she was dragged away.

After they left, Gaston slowly stood and made his way towards Tom, Dick and Stanley. The older men parted and he stopped in front of Stanley. The crowd held their breath. There was a pause as Gaston looked him up and down.

"You have a strong head on your shoulders, it seems," he cracked a smile, "If only you could have joined us in battle."

Stanley felt the corner of his mouth quirk upwards. He bowed his head slightly.

" _Merci_ , Captain."

"… What say we have a duel, us two? See if your sword is as quick as your wit."

Stanley's face broke into a grin as the people around him laughed and cheered.

In no time flat, a space was cleared and the two were going head-to-head across the floor. Tom and Dick urged Stanley on. The crowd watched with such eagerness that if someone new had stepped in, they might have believed it was some sort of performance. Not a single one of them noticed how Lafayette's brow furrowed in concern, or how his fingers nervously scratched at his chin as he watched.

Steel clashed and cries of encouragement rang out. Breathing became ragged and sweat dripped. Neither man took their eye of the other for a second.

The fight was over when Gaston's sword clattered to the floor, Stanley's frozen barely an inch from his neck. He took a step back and lowered his sword, offering Gaston his free hand to shake, which he took with vigour.

Somewhere behind them, Lafayette breathed a sigh of relief, muffled by the cheers and applause of the surrounding crowd.

Feeling proud of himself, Stanley put aside his long-withstanding resentment towards Gaston and joined him at his table, along with Tom and Dick. Lafayette crossed behind him to take his seat at Gaston's right hand and leaned in close to Stanley's ear.

"I'm glad you're alright," he whispered as Gaston said a few words to Tom and Dick, "I'd hate to see you hurt again."

Stanley was dumbstruck. He turned to meet Lafayette's eyes but he was already sitting down, his attention back on Gaston. As always. Stanley huffed and faced forward again, only to find his friends smiling and winking at him. Stanley's eyebrows shot up and he hissed at them to stop.

As the night came to an end and the men stumbled out of the tavern, Tom threw an arm around Stanley's shoulder.

"Just so you know, lad, if you should ever feel unsafe at home, I'd gladly have you stay with me. No questions asked."

"Or with me," Dick said, throwing his own arm around him, "Anytime."

Stanley nodded his thanks and smiled.

"We shall see," he muttered, "I may still have some support there."

 _I will stay._

His dear sister's words still rang in his ears. Perhaps she couldn't stay with him that night, but he knew she would be there when he returned home.

Being there didn't mean she could speak with him, though.

When Stanley stepped through the front door, he found Eloise in the shop, a bundle of fabric in her arms. She stopped when she saw him.

"Stanley..!", she hurried over to him, a pleading look on her face, "Stanley, I'm so sorry I left you, I-"

"Eloise."

They both immediately turned around at the sound of their mother's voice coming from the stairs.

"Maman…"

"You've wasted enough time tonight already. Hurry up now, finish your work and then to bed with you. Go."

She stood and watched, stone-faced, as Eloise briefly glanced at her brother. Her eyes silently begged him for forgiveness before she retreated into the backroom. Stanley could only nod to his mother, mutter a short 'goodnight', and go up to his room.

 _She can't protect you anymore._

He would have to rely on Tom and Dick from now on. Or else learn to protect himself.

Distance. Distance was the key. From Eloise. From the happiness and security he had found in her presence.

And Lafayette… He was finally close to Lafayette, who had even shown him some kindness that day. But that was all it was. Just a few kind words. He saw Stanley only as a friend. Stanley was nothing to him compared to Gaston, and that was how things would stay.

A friend was all he could ever be to Lafayette.

 _LeFou. They all know him as LeFou. And so will you._

 _He is LeFou._

 _LeFou, LeFou, LeFou…!_


	3. Happier

**Disclaimer** \- I don't own Beauty and the Beast (2017) or any characters involved. Copyright to Walt Disney Studios.

Well, here it is, the end of What A New Dress Can Do, at long last!

Like I said, this has been sitting in my laptop for a while. I've done a bit of editing here and there since writing the other two chapters but it's mostly stayed the same. I've had this idea in my head for almost as long as I've been in this fandom. I love the image of Stanley fighting while wearing his dress, and that image is pretty much what inspired this, and then the fic as a whole, too!

Now let's just see if I get to writing the LeFou Potts screenplay fic...

* * *

Happier

" _Be free, be free, be free…!"_

The rush he felt was incredible. For a moment, Stanley barely acknowledged the ongoing battle. Quite unusual for him, really, to step out of the familiar mindset of fighting, but then again, this was quite an unusual situation he had found himself in.

He was wearing a dress. A _dress_ …with a wig and make-up…

Of course, Tom and Dick had immediately ran off once they looked down at themselves but Stanley hesitated, gazing up at the singing wardrobe who had bestowed this gift upon him. He had approached her – he couldn't help but think of it as a "her" - under the assumption that she was an enemy, but now he just couldn't see her that way. He had gazed up at her in confusion, but confusion soon gave way to gratitude. A silent "thank you". And then an array of feelings he couldn't very well say he'd felt in a long, long time. Comfort. Confidence. _Pride_.

He had only truly felt those feelings before with Eloise. But he had also felt safe then. And safety wasn't exactly plausible right now.

A smile stretched across his face, wider than any smile he'd worn in recent years. Wider than when he was sparring with Tom and Dick, or the times when no-one was watching and he could allow his eyes to wander across the room to LeFou. Stanley felt his whole demeanour change as the wardrobe sang his praises and he spun on his heel, almost showing off. He flounced down the stairs, watching the way the fabrics of the skirt and sleeves moved so enticingly. He had gazed at such gowns in his mother's shop his whole life, silently praying for the day he would get this chance. He was vaguely aware of the looks he was getting from the people around him, but they didn't have time to focus on him as books, feather dusters and silverware flew at them from all directions. He turned back for a brief moment to see that the wardrobe had rejoined the fight.

Despite his best efforts not to, Stanley couldn't help but feel bad for these strange living objects. They were clearly trying to defend their home, and the wardrobe seemed so kind. Or was that just his hope in finding acceptance talking? Either way, the question of whether or not to continue the fight against them stood.

He was stirred from his thoughts by a frightened shout and the sight of a china teapot – one with an animated face on its side – falling from a chandelier. He saw the wardrobe, and a few of the other objects, gasp in alarm, but then he recognized the figure standing below.

LeFou caught the falling teapot with not a moment to spare and seemed to exchange a few words with it – _her_ , Stanley concluded. He watched LeFou nod at the teapot and race back into battle, apparently filled with a new-found vigor as he launched an attack against his former allies.

 _He had switched sides_.

A spark ignited in Stanley. LeFou had _switched sides_. And then he noticed something that he had somehow missed before.

Gaston was nowhere to be seen.

LeFou was fighting on the side of the enemy, with a talking teapot in hand and no sign of Gaston. And Stanley was wearing a dress. Everything had been turned upside down and Stanley was filled to the brim with adrenaline. He was barely thinking.

"LeFou!"

Stanley hurried down the flight of stairs towards his friend, who spun around at the sound of his name only to freeze at the sight of Stanley in a dress and wig. A look of confusion crossed his face, as well as something that looked to Stanley like intrigue. He was staring at him and Stanley had to urge himself not to blush too brightly for the fear that LeFou might see it through the powder on his face. As Stanley approached, LeFou opened his mouth to speak but Stanley hurriedly cut him off.

"Don't ask…"

Before he could go any further, however, the teapot LeFou was holding piped up, looking him up and down.

"Oh, my, looks like you've met the Madame, haven't you?" she muttered, then glanced up at LeFou, "A friend of yours, poppet?"

"Something like that…" LeFou managed to stutter, still staring.

Stanley frowned. _'Something like that'_? What was that supposed to mean? They _were_ friends, weren't they? He suddenly felt self-conscious under LeFou's gaze, though he sensed no animosity, no judgement, from him whatsoever. Stanley met his eyes and forced his voice to steady.

"You've joined them?"

"I have," LeFou said, turning serious.

For whatever reason, Stanley glanced at the wardrobe once again, and back at LeFou.

"Where is Gaston?"

LeFou's expression twisted into one of pain and… anger…? He was about to explain but the teapot spoke up again.

"I hate to interrupt, my dears, but we really shouldn't waste any more time."

In that moment, Stanley made his decision. He felt a second rush of adrenaline as he nodded, his smile returning, even bigger now than before.

"Indeed, we shouldn't."

LeFou blinked in surprise, and, if Stanley was reading things right, joy, "You'll join us, as well?"

"What?" Stanley laughed, gesturing at the many layers of the dress, "Do you expect Gaston to welcome this with open arms?"

"No," a smile tugged at the corner of LeFou's mouth, "And yet you've never looked happier." He paused to look Stanley up and down, some strange combination of distracted and intensely focused, his brow creased in thought with the small smirk still present. Stanley couldn't quite guess the reason behind this but whatever it was, it made him blush to be under such scrutiny from LeFou. Before either of them could say another word, however, the teapot's gentle chastising brought them back to reality.

"It does suit you well, dear, but it's not exactly appropriate battle attire, now, is it?"

"I have to agree with her," said LeFou with a shrug, though his eyes still continued to wander.

His confidence reaching a peak, Stanley's smile turned menacing. He began rummaging around in his skirts, digging through the various fabrics for the slits which opened onto the pockets, though it was what he wore _beside_ the pockets that he reached for.

"You think this is enough to keep me from a duel?" sword in hand, Stanley winked, "I thought you knew me better than that, _mon ami_!" With that parting remark, he raced past them, back into the fray.

LeFou stood for a brief moment, staring after Stanley with a peculiar expression on his face until the teapot called out to him. He shook his head and quickly followed behind his friend.

Stanley reminded himself over and over that he wasn't fighting to wound, just to deter. These were his friends, after all, his fellow villagers. Soon, they began to retreat, mostly thanks to the cunning smarts of the other magical objects, who Stanley had decided not to question for now. He let out a shout of victory as he watched the baker, the headmaster and the fishmonger run for the door, but then he caught a flash of pale pink out the corner of his eye as his sisters came fleeing from a room further into the castle. His arm, previously holding his sword high above his head proudly, dropped and the sword clattered to the floor. Stanley took a step back and ducked behind the bannister, just out of sight. Eloise might not say a word against him, but Elise would likely have a thing or two on her mind, and Eliana… Eliana may even report this to their parents. He silently thanked the Heavens that the wig had fallen off and much of the make-up and been either wiped off absent-mindedly or washed away by sweat. He looked around for LeFou or the teapot – Mrs Potts, as he now knew – and breathed a sigh of relief when the latter came rolling along on her self-moving tea trolley.

"Chip? Chip!" she called out, clearly concerned, before she noticed him, "Oh, Stanley, my pet, you haven't seen my little boy, have you? The little teacup?"

Stanley shook his head, his eyes darting from the door, to her and back to the door again. He tried to slow his breathing.

"Is there something wrong, love?"

"My… my sisters are out there," he said, "They can't see me dressed like this…"

"Go down that corridor to the left," Mrs Potts nodded in the direction, "The servants' quarters, it's empty now, you can find a room to undress and tidy yourself up. They'll never know you were gone."

Stanley thanked her and slipped away down the corridor.

He found himself in a small room, almost entirely bare of furniture. Probably, he assumed, because they had went to join the battle. One of the few things that remained, that evidently weren't alive, was a full-length mirror propped against a wall. Before he let himself remove the dress, Stanley stood in front of the mirror. His smile had fallen upon remembering his sisters and now he was stone-faced as he looked at himself. The dress wasn't perfect. Madame de Garderobe, as he learned the wardrobe was called, had been in a rush to tie him and his friends up when she made it, but still…

It was beautiful.

Perhaps because it had been made especially for him. The context was less than desirable, true, but it _was_ made for him. His face stayed neutral as he turned this way and that, back and forth, admiring the design. The detail, the texture, the colour… How it fell along the lines of his body, despite the tightness where it wrapped around the clothes he already wore underneath. He turned, a little sharply, to get a better view of the back and the skirt flared up just the slightest bit. Stanley paused and felt his face slowly light up. With a soft, serene smile, he twirled around. He took hold of the skirt, lifting it as he twirled again.

He had no idea how long he was in that room, but after some time, he was interrupted by a loud shaking. Through the small window on the adjacent wall, he saw the light changing, brightening enormously. The snow melted away in an instant and the crumbling castle seemed to be rebuilding itself. Stanley hurried to shed the dress and ran for the door. He hesitated for a moment at leaving it on the floor so disrespectfully, but he couldn't miss whatever this was.

As he ran back down the corridor, into the entrance hall and outside, he started to remember. Prince Adam and his taxes, the balls that his mother worked so many hours to sew dresses for, the people who worked there who had come from Villeneuve. And Mrs Potts – of course, Beatrice Potts, the wife of the potter, Jean! How could he forget so much?

When Stanley stepped outside, he saw Mrs Potts there, he recognized her immediately, engulfing LeFou in a warm, motherly embrace. He couldn't help but perk up at the sight of LeFou, especially seeing him looking so genuinely happy and _comfortable_.

He had never looked happier.

Stanley was unsure at first whether he should disturb them in this sweet moment until they drew apart and LeFou looked up and noticed him. His friend beckoned him over and he obliged. Stanley opened his mouth to speak but was shocked into silence when Mrs Potts wrapped her arms around him.

"Thank you so much," she sounded so sincere, her voice barely above a whisper. Stanley smiled a little shyly back at her. He wasn't quite sure what to say now, but he felt… comfortable. And it only made it better that LeFou was standing beside him.

The peaceful calm was broken, albeit quite elegantly, by a woman's voice ringing out from in amongst the crowd.

"Pretty boy! _Mio caro_!"

Although Stanley was sure he hadn't once met this woman before that day, he knew exactly who she was. His smile grew (he couldn't remember a time when he'd smiled as much as this) as he saw her appear from the mass of people, her dress, wig and make-up the very picture of a star. It finally clicked in his mind – he may not have met her before, but he had heard of her. 'Most everyone had, before their memories of her had completely disappeared. Madame de Garderobe, the great diva of the opera. And Stanley did something in that moment that surprised everyone around him, including the Madame, and even himself.

He ran towards her and hugged her.

No matter how many times Eloise would reassure him, help him, protect him, she was his _sister_ , and he had always told himself that, deep down, she did those things out of some sense of obligation. What he didn't know he needed, until his brief encounter with Madame de Garderobe, was validation from someone beyond his family. Someone to acknowledge his… oddity, and tell him he was free to enjoy it.

"Thank you," he breathed, even softer than Mrs Potts' voice had been.

It only took a second for Madame de Garderobe to return the hug, stroking his back in soothing motions. Her husband now stood beside LeFou and Mrs Potts, their dog in his arms, all of them taking in the scene before them.

LeFou's mind began to wander, a curiosity building within him. How well did he really know his friend?

It wasn't much longer until the two of them had a moment alone together, while everyone else seemed to be catching up with their long-forgotten friends and family. Stanley could only assume his sisters had either gone home, or were somewhere in the gathered crowd. He and LeFou – no, Lafayette - had found a more isolated space on the other side of the castle, on a small veranda. Something about this felt strangely intimate to Stanley, and that old nickname no longer felt right. They had discussed the curse, the new friends they had made, but they had managed to avoid any direct mention of Gaston thus far. Instead, their conversation focused mainly on each other. Eventually, though, Lafayette went quiet.

"… I have a question for you," he finally said, still not meeting Stanley's eyes, but trusting that he had his attention, "Have you ever… dressed that way before?"

Stanley bit his lip and looked down for a few seconds, thinking.

"I have," he said and Lafayette tilted his head, one eyebrow raised, an expression that said _go on_ , "On the odd occasion. I was always curious about the dresses my mother made, but she would never let me try them on like she did my sisters. She told me never to bring up such things to my father, and Elise and Eliana wouldn't let me forget how scandalous the whole idea was."

"And what of Eloise…?"

"Eloise would lend me dresses, in secret," he smiled sadly, "she told me I deserved to experience it if I wanted to, it was such a simple thing. She said I shouldn't be ashamed of wanting to. Eloise was always my light in the darkness."

"I knew the two of you were close. She tried to defend you that night, after all. But I never knew just how close you were. Why didn't I see it?"

"Because there were… complications," Stanley sighed, "Apparently, she was a 'bad influence' on me. And I on her, according to Maman. She didn't believe we could be left alone together. Especially not if our father would find out what we were doing. We were separated often."

Lafayette gave him a sympathetic look. He had met Stanley's father; he wasn't all that different to the other villagers, but he could be particularly strict with his children. He was a businessman, and appearances were everything as far as he was concerned. He couldn't imagine what Stanley would face should his father see him in a dress.

Then Stanley broke their unspoken promise, in a faint voice he had hoped Lafayette wouldn't hear.

"If I could just have been more like Gaston…"

But Lafayette heard him, and frowned. He looked away, unsure of whether or not he should respond.

Both of them had been shocked, and admittedly quite grief-stricken, when Belle told them what happened. Despite the way Gaston had treated him in their last hours as a team, Lafayette was still unable to forget their friendship, and the deeper feelings he had held for the man. He had tried to put on a brave face, but there was no hiding how devastated he was from Stanley. He wondered how much Stanley truly knew. In the end, Lafayette chose to speak up.

"Stanley," his tone was gentle and Stanley looked up sharply, worried he had upset him by bringing up Gaston, "… I wouldn't want you to be like him. _Anything_ like him. Regardless of how I once saw him."

Their eyes met for a moment, Stanley's confused, Lafayette's reassuring.

Lafayette hesitated, then took a shaky breath.

"Gaston was… I was in-"

"I know…" Stanley interrupted, fixing his eyes on the ground, "And," he lifted his head and took a shaky breath himself, "And I am the same as you."

"You…?"

"Not for Gaston, you should know. I wasn't interested in _him_ in the way you were but… _men_ , as a general rule…"

He lifted his head then, a slight smile on his face. Lafayette was unsure of what to say at first. Part of him immediately wondered how _anyone_ , besides Belle, with a preference for men could not be attracted to Gaston. Another part of him was curious if Stanley had told this to anyone else. Perhaps Eloise, seeing as they were apparently so close, and perhaps Tom and Dick. Lafayette had seen the way they would lightly tease Stanley over some private matter, was this what they had been talking about? He assumed his parents had no idea, and dreaded to think what his father might do if he knew.

Lafayette realised he had been drifting when he was brought back to earth by Stanley's voice as he continued.

"I wish I didn't have to hide it from all of them…" he was saying, seemingly half to himself, "Madame de Garderobe told me I could be free, but how free can I be in a small town like Villeneuve?"

Lafayette nodded, staring forward in thought. He understood that all too well. But he found himself starting to smile as he turned to look at Stanley.

"I suppose we're both in the same boat, so to speak…" he sighed, "… It's good to know I'm not alone."

Stanley returned the smile and they sat in comfortable silence for a short while. He felt so peaceful now, in Lafayette's presence, and after they had expressed such personal thoughts to one another. He still couldn't understand what exactly Lafayette had meant when he said he wouldn't want him to be like Gaston, but that seemed unimportant now.

Then, Lafayette broke the silence with an unexpected question.

"Will you go back for the dress?"

Stanley's snapped round to look at him, his brow furrowed.

"Why?"

"Simple: it was made for you and it suits you. Besides, as I told you before," he paused, looking into Stanley's eyes with such sincerity, "You've never looked happier."


End file.
